Top 50 Albums 2021

51. Playboi Carti – Whole Lotta Red

Released almost a year ago, Whole Lotta Red deserves the shout-out for being so far out of the box for a commercial rap album, that the first reactions toward it tethered on unlistenable to ingenuity. Sitting with the album over a year and getting lost in the blown-out, aggressive and almost nonsensical use of compression and overdrive bass, Whole Lotta Red and Playboi Carti made their unique vision and disregard for cohesion into a strange modus operandi. Far off from a “baby voice” and somewhat removed from actual lyricism, Playboi uses a hoarse and chewy vocal style, hopping from sing-song to straight-up shouting over the instrumentals at hand. There is hardly a pocket for the lyrics to be found in some instrumentals in their length and sketchy nature, with few exceptions such as “Beno”. Yet these more structured tracks are never the highlights between the short abrasive spewing of a few lines, a broken hook or weirded-out ad-libs. This kind of Dadaism between the steady progression of trap music and what has mostly been decried as mumble rap renders Whole Lotta Red into a masterpiece in its own right. Young Thug’s music and especially his stint as JEFFREY appear as close relatives for Carti’s deconstructions of what a rapper and vocalist should bring to the table of riding a beat. Over its hour-long runtime, Whole Lotta Red morphs between the emotional wreckage of Carti’s mental condition (“No Sl33p”), snippets of joy and swag meant for Instagram or TikTok play (“Teen X”), pure cartoonish confidence (“Vamp Anthem”) to a genuine blend of atmosphere and intent (“Punk Monk”). As ASAP Rocky’s mixtape turned ten in 2021 and re-revealed itself to be ahead of its time and a perfect encapsulation of the potential and creativity of the rapper’s future trajectory, Whole Lotta Red will surely stand as tall in the coming years, even if the influences to be felt stretch into territories of rap punk resurgence or what old head will decry as the downfall of real lyricism for good.

50. Sounds of Pamoja

Following the face-melting strength of Sounds of Sisso in 2017, Nyege Nyege showcases a different label of Tanzania’s wave of Singeli music and do this with a stronger focus on the different MC’s challenging the break-neck speed of Duke’s production. The draw of Singeli music apart from its speed and drive lives through the way the different voices use the abrasive instrumental canvas to fill and again challenge the speed with their own flows. While your ears may give out over the first few listens and my inability to understand the language takes away from the actual contents, the flows and confluence of sound and voice here transfer pure energy and resolve. While all MC’s get their moments to shine, special focus must go to Dogo Lizzy on his two tracks “Angekuwepo” and “Nakupenda” for its sheer mixture of aggression and ease of delivery. Even if this music might not be heard in clubs and larger gatherings of people in the west, the showmanship and urgency of the Pamoja MC’s and Singeli music are undeniable. The musical prowess that is building in the various genres across Africa might come off as experimental in its reception here, yet Nyege Nyege stress the youth of its musicians here, a raw and singular expression of what may never be even emulated through European means of aural colonialism.

49. Explosions in the Sky – Big Bend (An Original Soundtrack for Public Television)

As a teenager discovering post-rock or instrumental rock music and living in that world for well over five years, the one offense I would take is the blatant disregard for this style as soundtrack music. Yet again, the same feeling of disrespect was coupled with the wish and understanding of how well this music blended with visual worlds and through an intentional usage to score the picturesque or visual atmospheres. Few instances of post-rock popping up in major films like 28 Days Later have become upended by contemporary filmmakers and production tapping into the vast variety of post-rock at hand and the biggest names themselves providing soundtracks themselves. Big Bend recalls moments of first discovering Explosions in the Sky through self-made Youtube videos pitting their colossal music against the visual worlds of Koyaanisqatsi and similar visions of the grandiose life worlds of our times between the natural and the artificial. The music of Explosions in the Sky was always able to capture the perceived difference of a life lived in the divide of nature/culture and its philosophical implications while resolving these binaries within their own emotional highpoints and crescendos crashing either into the abyss or celestial heights. The band itself used references such as the Thin Red Line in Those Who Tell The Truth or The Catcher in The Rye in All of A Sudden, I Miss Everyone to the purpose of filling known atmospheres of the literary or filmic with their ability of world-building by aural means. Following their work on Friday Night Lights with a bland soundtrack for Prince Avalanche, the band found a better fit in soundtracking Lone Survivor in 2014 and used their momentum to translate these lessons into 2016’s The Wilderness. With their work on Big Bend, the band appears to revel in the freedom of the task of sound-tracking natural occurrences and wildlife apart from specific human interactions or easily translatable emotional situations. Here the transition of what could be decried crescendo-core becomes perfect and vastly outshines their last studio album even. As in their live shows and their profound ability to use the acoustic and the electronically enhanced to open up timespaces completely their own, the band fuse this approach for the extension of a visual platform provided by the national park and an hour-long documentary. Far off from having to build 10-15-minute epics or ending every song with a loud and emotional highpoint, Explosions create lived-in atmospheres that shine and mingle with your understanding of environments and the other-than-human life.

48. Dry Cleaning – New Long Leg

For the resurgence of creative alternative rock bands in their many facets and styles, Dry Cleaning stood out beyond many contemporaries in their spoken word surrealism provided by frontwoman Florence Shaw. Similar but vastly beyond what one might expect from the likes of Protomartyr's own Joe Casey, Shaw remains calm and collected in her off the rails delivery of observations and metaphors that mix and blend into prophetic visions of the mundane. The band and especially its driving bass lines provide the perfect accompaniment to these tales of weirdness and uncanny mirroring of life. All of it feels political in the personal kind of way and punk in this aesthetic of a failed poet staring down her demos and the requirements of being an artist in today’s world. All of it makes for a much-needed voice between all the men grappling with their own masculinity in mostly snarky vulnerability or in-your-face openness.

 

47. Vince Staples – Vince Staples

“We dying broke or live with broken hearts”. With his self-titled offering, Vince Staples has become the James Blake of G-funk adjacent music. His west side rap seems trapped in the same cycles of life and death, the unwillingness to transcend his makings and become a pop-star in his own right pulsates against his deep connection to his neighborhood and the streets he calls out even in his downtrodden reflections of gun violence and paranoia of a life lived hustling. The cyclical nature of Vince Staples feeds of the structure the rapper pushed in the radio-show vision of FM! and touches upon the nihilism captured throughout Staples’ biggest hits. This world is filled with violence and the phantasm of making it through hustling and playing the game. Between this the bleary-eyed observations and flows of a mid-tempo Staples’ ring through like dry commentary and prayers of deep affection. The jubilee and sense of pride become apprehended within the knowledge of unending strife. Staples will never deny his basis or the realism that has made him, there is no place for simple hedonism or the consumerist vision of big cars and riches when the price you pay will always be counteracted with loss. Staples makes peace with his environment and the life that is teeming on his self-titled album and the result is steeped in the gray of its cover, love in every line of mourning commemoration.

46. FUJI|||||||||||TA – Noiseem

After working with bats, flies and a tunnel, Fujita resurfaces with Noiseem as an album that captures his live performances using amplified water in combination with his self-built organ. Other than qualifying as pure sound art, all releases by Fujita have held true to the idea of music-making as a collaborative endeavor focused on the creation of musical structures through time and space. While the artist makes a point in his collaborators acting in their own natural, non-human ways and Fujita working around or in resonance with these natural outings, Noiseem appears to be the most “controlled” effort to date. The known organ sound collides with drips, drops and static splashes of water and even the use of his own voice through this instrumental-construction bears a certain understanding and perfection of his liquid collaborator. This outing might be the most far removed from his previous work in regards to his usage of organ, but with side b and “UZU” taking off into the vocoder-like territory between washes of noise, Fujita shows himself in a different kind of introspection and emotional heft. The track shapeshifts from acid jazz into a solemn calling from beyond, the theme of water and the organ sounds moving in their own pace of silent generation and conclusion. As Noiseem and his other works can be understood as edits of a much larger working engagement with his collaborators, the album points towards a larger world for Fujita to explore, enhance, amplify and lastly, to play through his own understanding of sound.

45. Julien Baker – Little Oblivions

Over her six-year evolution starting with 2015’s Sprained Ankle, Julien Baker’s growth came with the detriment of stardom found through a narrative of sobriety and spiritual enlightenment. Little Oblivions feels like the right successor to Sprained Ankle and the idea of living through most of life’s miseries before turning 20 and appearing to come out of the experience stronger and better. Here Baker does her best to chip away at the self-image of a wise, former drug addict that found redemption through faith. The life of being an indie poster child and role model for some topples under the weight of relapses and anxiety and Julien Baker channels this through her bone-chilling honesty about doubt and suicidal thoughts. While her contemporary Phoebe Bridgers takes most of these moods and channels them through bittersweet observation and a knack for downtrodden pop sensibilities, Little Oblivions leaves very few stones unturned and a sense of redemptive upsides intact. Baker proves her poetic ability as a writer through her no holds barred approach and instead of making these songs stripped backed confessionals, they burst through with their instrumentation and fleshed out production. Providing this experience without opting for the sadness of a singular voice over guitar might be off-putting or inauthentic judging from her previous discography, but with this Little Oblivions glows in its own conflicted darkness, showcasing the ongoing progression of Baker’s narrative and struggles in a new light and maturity.

44. Moin – Moot!

Still reeling from the sub-bass of Raime and following their output of mixtapes, EPs and other moniker Yally, the Moin full-length stresses the other genre the duo has been filtering into their main(?) project. From dub, dnb and way out jungle and experimental electronic music, Moin has Halstead and Andrews embracing their post-punk side with the help of newly introduced member and percussionist Valentina Magaletti. It must have been her drumming that was already present on Tooth and the snapping abrasion of guitar and drums feels reminiscent of the skeletal remains almost every other Tooth track heralded. Here, however, Moin kick into a different gear of allowing the combo of guitar and drum to live within its own scopes of psychedelia, paranoia and discomfort. What was dub-darkness or head-busting bass on other projects turns towards the sinister tension of post-punk nihilism. All while remaining largely free of vocal intrusions (with these tracks coming off as the weakest of the bunch), the band creates dense atmospheres in the spirit of their larger oeuvre and counterparts. The criticism of Halstead of Andrews running thin through the sole focus on a genre of their megalomania might ring through if not for the self-reflective move to call this album an experiment and release it without much fanfare or even on their own label. My finger would be on this serving as a live experiment and rehearsal for what is about to come in whatever form and name the trio chose for themselves. Beyond the sketch, this has me excited in the showcase of craft and handling of atmosphere on each and every track.

43. Balmorhea – The Wind

Balmorhea arriving at Deutsche Grammophon for the newest album felt like a predestined meeting since their first album releases. Starting as a duo of musical like-mindedness between acoustics and quiet electronics and growing into a full-fledged band delivering folkish journeys and yet again morphing to a spectral band before taking a turn toward quiescence again in Clear Language, Balmorhea make a resurgence as the classical vanguard that has always been at the core of their music. With a label that has learned to equally hold dear old school classical music and renditions thereof while providing a platform for the likes of Johan Johannsson and Max Richter, Balmorhea bring with them a sense of ambiance and acoustic glory previously unknown on the roster. The Wind is essentially a rediscovery of slow piano ballads, delightful lead melodies and field-recoded textures that made the self-titled and follow-up River Arms shine beyond their contemporaries and always felt like a genre-bender without giving any hints thereof. The duo showcased their prowess and feeling for musical wanderings and meditative grandeur and The Wind has these elements in their conceptual high-point without the need for full-string arraignments or studio spaces. Balmorhea still perfectly encapsulates the solitude of playing off each other or inviting a small ensembled cast of musicians and singers to embody their vision.

42. J. Cole – The Off-Season

What most describe to be a warm-up album for J. Cole’s next “real” studio album was the first time J. Cole as a rapper lost his preachy and high-concept-low-affect style of making music. The Off-Season is the first J. Cole album that can be listened front to back without me losing attention or growing weary of the lyricism that is always highly appreciated but fails to capture or entice. Here it felt like Cole was pressed to release an album and kept writing and plotting songs of strife and a hard work-ethic – Cole just writing to the exercise of letting his hooks rise and his verses pop-off with dense and soulful beats. Maybe the meeting of 21 Savage and Cole for Savage’s last album changed Cole as a rapper sitting between stardom and conscious rap for the better – his mode of music-making tapping into the stream-trolling and constantly releasing rappers of today’s trap music and refocusing his lyrical strength for a short and sweet outing. The Off-Season might therefore never reach the height of KOD or Forest Hill Drive, but it reaffirms Cole as a still relevant rapper that is able to carry his project amongst the hook and ad-lib heavy contemporaries. Maybe the Kendrick collab-album that appears as a myth nowadays will still happen and confirm the much-professed position on the top of the feeding chain even further.

41. Black Country, New Road – For The First Time

Probably the best newcomers in this very specific, King Crimson-esque revival of psychedelic / post-punk rock since their contemporaries black midi, Black Country, New Road make the best out of overarching instrumental prowess coupled with the introspective lyricism of trippy imagination. The band may never aim for the off-the-hook narratives and Dadaistic influence of Andrew Belew, taking a more melodic and intellectual approach to meaning-making and irony and especially sitting within the genre-hopping approach of their music. While black midi bring a different raw energy to their tracks, Black Country ruminate through melodic passages and more jazz and acoustically inclined sound. All influences click and give a lot of hope for the upcoming album following in the next months. With collectives sounding so assured of their sounds and creative approach, For The First Time never gives off the air of an album to be heralded as a grand debut never to be reached again – the Slint influence stands only in the lyrical style here – but as a collection of energy and momentary inclination to record their live music for future reference.

40. the body – I’ve Seen All I Need To See

Stripping back their sound and approach to a setting more reminiscent of their early work and apart from their last electronic and sample-heavy iterations, I’ve Seen All I Need To See is the essence of a band that has grown considerably throughout the last five years. From their “solo” albums to their linking up with every band that is somehow entrenched in heavy music, the body have steadily refined their visceral approach to heavy and hard music. While most will likely call it metal or even black metal and noise metal in some shape or form, the most striking results of the body come through the sheer density of the affective weight of each and every drum hit, distorted rift or wash of noise. The bone-chilling shrieks grow distant and fraught here, the drums resemble hip hop beats in overdrive and the overall concept of pushing distortion to its fullest blooms throughout the runtime of the LP. While this might not be the innovative new step the band is used to take with each and every entry sound-wise and conceptually, the execution is flawless. Repetition will never be a thing for the body, but focusing and refocusing their approach every few albums and really drowning in the tune of their beat will be helpful for the next generations of listeners to tap into the expansive world they created.

39. Karim Maas & Stave – Godless

In terms of production, Godless is an expertly crafted aural experience standing between hardened goth techno, jungle and an oppressive helping of noise. Maas and Stave leave little to no breathing space on their tracks, with atmospheric and dreadful cuts pacing towards the abject and desolate or tacking the straight path towards bass drum-heavy ecstasies. Godless comes together to form a piece of work that is much indebted to the Birmingham sounds of Regis or Surgeon and carries the torch forward in the same atmospheric and eerie explorations the former's work was always shifting and morphing towards. All this rectifies the point of music like this transcending the dancefloors for which the most straightforward cuts will always serve as head-crushing centerpieces of a set – the listening experience and affective connection of listener and aural work is meant to change the perception of internal or external space, the bass drum changes gloom into a way of listening to sound.

38. Regis – Penetration (20^th Anniversary Remaster)

While Gymnastics, the debut album by Regis might be heralded as the creative introduction of how techno could still develop and transform in a sprawling display of styles under one modus operandi and mood, Penetration was the record to christen the gothic pressure of Birmingham techno. Released again, after 20 years of reigning as the history lesson in adhesive pressure served through the later works of British Murder Boys, Vatican Shadow and even Andy Stott, Penetration still feels as relevant and innovative as it must have in 2001. From track to track Regis filters through dark and conflicting energies, that turn violent and sickening in their looping tones. Listening to this mostly through headphones, the repetitive nature of the sequences doesn’t turn meditative in a weak sense of allowing for reflection and a “getting lost in the sounds”. Here the incessant churn of the drums opens a different door of perception and understanding of heaviness – dark energy as the suppression of space, breath and resolution. As GAS released his latest work in 2021, I saw the parallels of movement and intent in both his and Regis’ work of expressing an environment – for one the vastness of nature interacting with the human spirit, for the other the resilience born out of architectural and social oppression.

37. David Granström – Empty Room

David Granström answers the question of how Sun0))) might sound as an ambient outfit more entrenched with the ephemeral transformations of their transformations than with crushing bodies under the weight of their drone. Empty Room has Gransström providing kaleidoscopic soundscapes through his guitar mainly, but upended and enveloped through his usage of algorithms and synthesis. Granström himself stresses the point of collaborating with sounds and the generation thereof, not only as an artist in immediate and full control but as an intent listener reacting to the own experience of sound and working with “the machine” at hand to craft these sounds. As much as Empty Room invites the seclusion of listening to a space developing like an organic entity under the mathematical perfection of the golden ratio, the timespace feels lived in, aged and for that matter inhabited by a multitude before expressing a singularity. If nature documentaries and the process of sound synthesis melded into the same thing, Empty Room might be what we get.

36. Broken English Club / Slow White Fall – White Rats III / Flesh In The Modern Age

Oliver Ho kept busy this year, opening his own label for industrial and overall darker sound generation for his and other projects and bringing his White Rats trilogy to a close. Starting in 2018 when the Brexit referendum still remained fresh in all its unknown global repercussions of how to even secluded from the EU, White Rats emerged as a bleak outlook on the fictional and very real life-world of a politically shattered Great Britain. Somewhere between the darkest visions of early Depeche Mode and their massive statement of Black Celebration and Construction Time Again, Broken English Club provided the update to the industrial machine that is not so much only a capitalist Moloch swallowing unsuspecting generations of workers, but a keen politician that promises an ancient kind of absolution through upheaval against the obscure elites and democratic messiahs. From the crushing vocal intro over hedonistic strings through the menacing black metal shrieks of “Burning Sun”, White Rats III kicks into gear as an atmospheric shift from toxic industrial drums to stabbing synth work. The tribal, the visceral and the straight-up evil meld in Ho’s soundscapes and leave little hope for a better future after a nationalist rift that not only separated a supranational connection but citizens from their government as well.

Continuing on, Ho delivered his first full-length album as Slow White Fall as well. His more noise and gothic post-rock centered outfit fully secluded from his central moniker on Flesh In The Modern Age, growing more atmospheric and less filtered through the pressure of bass and drums. Or at least, the attacks of his drum machine grow more incessant and violent at times, while allowing for more space to wander through his screeching soundscapes, the poetry of brokenness and disorienting synth rises. Flesh In The Modern Age sings the gospel that seems to frame the work of Ho throughout his recent work. The density of the album must be unpacked over multiple listens to categorize even the disparities into the wounded body. The one reference that might ring the truest are the noise-filled soundscapes of recent Prurient, eschewing easy noise modifications for the palpability of electronics and drawn-out soundscapes.

35. Jaubi – Nafs at Peace

Disregarding the whole live-action dilemma regarding Cowboy Bebop this year, the soundtrack of the iconic anime was the introduction to jazz and especially formations of non-traditional jazz ranging into space jazz for many young music listeners. Shinichiro Watanabe’s later brainchild, “Samurai Champloo” did pretty much the same for a brand of jazz and soul-influenced instrumental hip hop music that was mostly known through the work of Nujabes. Jaubi reciprocates both with their blend of jazz, hip hop sensibilities and traditional north Indian classical music. If there ever had been a cross-over episode or idea living between Bebop and Champloo, it would have sounded like Nafs At Peace – the Indian music influence just appearing out of sheer creativity and the ability to do so. Regardless of all these musings, Jaubi delivered their first proper full length to great acclaim and with good reason. While I might understand their music through the lens of Nujabes and my own connections to Indian music that are more influenced by old Tamil songs and the great Junun album a few years back, Jaubi have been crafting their universe for years before taking to the scene with Nafs at Peace. The concept of spiritual journeying, the wistful tone of most of the tracks and the urge to break out into ever-expanding jams come together to form a perfect entity. As the album was conceived through improvisation and without outside directions, just through the music the band and their collaborators had built for themselves, the result sounds perfectly produced and without any compositional flaw. For someone who would steer clear of usual jazz vibes without a hip-hop beat behind it, Jaubi showcase the transcendence of free-flowing musicianship to its fullest extent.

34. Vatican Shadow – SR-71 Blackbird Survivors

Dominick Fernow rose in many forms this year, and his newest iteration of military secrecy and operative injustice as Vatican Shadow focused on the SR-71 Blackbird aircraft. Using the history and technological advancements portrayed by the Blackbird, Fernow focused the concept of the album on the idea of speed, flight and devastation caused through having the upper hand in battle. With all military advancements made and gear used, the shape of war is shifted and the very nature of battle and conflict formed through the hands of the countries dictating its pace. With the Blackbird it simply became possible to outrun enemy fire, make useless the means of defense or retribution of the other side. Somewhere in the history of the Blackbird lie the seeds of unmanned drones, high altitude flight and reconnaissance as best means of warfare. All this somehow funnels into the music, but as always, the claustrophobia caused by Vatican Shadows metallic clank and ominous renderings of air remain only secondary to these inspirations. SR-71 Blackbird Survivors feels like the continuation of musical explorations of conflict, secrecy and control, an oppressive ride of supremacy and bloodletting constricted within haunting landscapes of weariness and paranoia caused by fear. Until the penultimate track, this work by Fernow remains on the sinister side of things, soundscapes overtaking the beats and space overarching any semblance of progression. Only on “The SR-71 Blackbird Was Almost Brought Back For The War On Terror”, Vatican Shadow kicks into his usual gear, maybe from a historic standpoint and coming closer to the era of his main oeuvre. With “Rescue”, the project finds its conclusion in a disturbing club banger, loosening the grip on our throat for the ecstasy of celebrations, making secrets recede into consumerism and bodily pleasures…

33. Manslaughter 777 – World Vision Perfect Harmony

One of the most striking aspects of the body has always been the bands command of drum patterns and percussive elements to produce their crushing sound. Other than black metals compression through speed, the body and by that extent drummer Lee Buford have understood the fine line of making catchy and even hooky drums work to provide the same crushing sensations as the best metal music would. Linking up with Braveyoungs drummer Zachery Jones as Manslaughter 777, the duo lives in this distinct heaviness expressed through their prowess in drumming and using drums beyond genre and distinct locals of belonging. Every track is an ode to hip hop, jungle, dub and the essence of drum beats, distortion, amen breaks and marriage of samplings with percussive elements. Heaviness, doom and metal music, in general, have relied on these basics without connecting the dots to other genres for the most part – maybe Nu Metal standing as the most distinct relative here – but Manslaughter take the reign in this niche and create stunning beauty without leaving their certain kind of murk and oppressive strengths behind.

32. CV and JAB – Landscape Architecture

Christina Vantzou and John Also Benett linked up for their second album of ambient and sound texture work as CV and JAB. Building on their first offering Thoughts Of A Dot As It Travels A Surface, Landscape Architecture connects eerie tension-grabbing environments with more subtle and finessed acoustics. The piano-laden pieces such as “Phantom Tunnel” or “Down A Passageway” feel reminiscent of Susumu Yokota’s ambient offerings and the renderings of neoclassical experimentalism of Philipp Glass or Max Richter. The duo couples this with their understanding of textures on tracks on the somewhat creepy “Martyr Duck” or the droning “Pungent Lake”. Through their combination and appreciation of the psycho-somatic qualities of slow movements and glassy production, Landscape Architecture tethers between laid-back ambient and tactile fiction.

31. Ghoëst – Demo I-XI

Branching his creative world once again, A. Virdeus aka Werendia used this year to build a dungeon synth, or in his description, dark dungeon doom outfit called Ghoëst. From October until now the project has released a whopping eleven demos clocking in at over two hours in runtime. Other than most artists in the genre of dungeon synth, Virdeus substantiates every release with his incredible command of an assertive mood while keeping with the overarching doom and gloom-ridden feel of the genre. There are hints of FM-synthesis lightness and expansiveness that would equally work in synth-pop, the long-winding scapes evoke every From Software’s Souls title dreadful core of repetition and growth and the lead melodies tie this experience together through clouds of drone. There are equal amounts of journeying deeper into the beast as well as the relief felt through living between the slow-paced drum hits and menacing organ sounds. If these Demos are really only experimenting in preparation for greater and even tighter experiences to come, there is a lot to look forward to.

30. The House In The Woods – Spectral Corridor

Working with a singular synth and few guitar flourishes, The House In The Woods contributed a synth-scape album sitting perfectly within the rooster of Ecstatic’s ever-growing catalog. Like some of his previous work, Spectral Corridor is the implementation of highly artificial and synthesized sounds to create the feeling of walking in the woods and expressing nature through his ensemble of sounds. While the numbered self-titled tracks provide a vast array of tonal shifts, for instance in “Part 4” swaggering movement of what sounds like brass instruments fighting their way to the top of their own resonance followed by “Part 2” as a ghostly drowning in sound, the other tracks provide a different kind of transformation. “Grounded” is a heady and celestial organ ballad while “Information Dust” actually allows for field recordings in the mix to underline this vision of nature through swelling and bubbling synth stabs. Even if there is a certain tenebrosity to the Spectral Corridor, like its title suggests, it spans well beyond a simple color palette and allows for glimpses of radiance in combination and sentiment within its runtime.

29. Space Africa – Honest Labour

It is hard to hear album opener “yyyyyy2222” and not be thrown back to the beginnings of Burial’s massive Untrue. Apart from the lineage that happens through electronic production feeding of the atmospherics of dub and a slowed and chopped jungle/ grime influence from the UK, Space Africa forge their own path in what seems a very keen understanding of the historical markings their music possesses. If anything, this is the first time it feels like a sample-heavy album between the worlds of synthesis and narcotic soundscaping truly transcends its forefathers and especially the much-heralded second offering by daddy Burial himself. When it's not filled with vocals from collaborators, which are a nice addition but don’t contribute nearly as much as the production at hand, Honest Labour feels like following journeymen through a quest for understanding their life-world, neighborhoods and forefathers. The addition of strings at times contributes to a dreamlike sequence at times, just another layer for the perfection of a musical world that knows no boundaries and rightfully shouldn’t. While we are all howling and hungry for the aesthetic of drowsy dub iterations that evoke a nostalgia for Playstation 1 games and ideas of lone LP players in abandoned industrial complexes, Honest Labour is buzzing with a lived experience closer to the renderings of what it means to sample, built atmospheres through these techniques and act and expand the aural language of a certain time and place.

28. Alessandro Cortini – Scuro Chiaro

After years of dedicating his solo creative output and the albums that sprung from that to specific synthesizers and playing the hell out of their capabilities and what was thought possible to generate, it is only fitting for Alessandro Cortini to build his own engine and dedicate an album to his brainchild. And by this, it again is to the surprise of no one that the Strega, the synth Cortini built with the help of Make Noise looks like a control panel from an alien spaceship before it reveals itself to be a semi-modular synthesizer. The result of playing and showcasing his machine feels like the distillation of most of Cortini’s work while hinting at the growth he has gone through with each and every release since his solo career. While there is certainly a distinct sound to Cortini’s work, his ability to stretch out sounds and pulses through synths truly creates a kind of reciprocal inventive production of sound, sounding object and subject entrenched in sound. The spatial and temporal vastness of “Chiaroscuro”, the ever-expanding black hole-like quality of noise slowly fading into the mix gives a glimpse of how Cortini must feel when he sits in front of a synthesizer and just plays for the sole purpose of creating and being in sound. The whole album evokes this feeling, a groundedness in the engagement with a device that is more than its own mechanical and functional renderings. Alchemy, as the Strega is marketed to be.

27. Godspeed You! Black Emperor - G_d’s Pee AT STATE’S END!

Returning after the last LP in 2017, Godspeed You! Black Emperor came back with a different sort of vengeance for G_d`s Pee At State’s End. Beyond the rehash of common threads of their supra-political instrumental compositions that evoke the death of the world as we know it through the eyes and voice of people we would consider far-right for today’s standards, Godspeed took these influences, the state of the world falling apart through Covid and all forces trying to gain politically by decrying these end times by making an incredibly hopeful and almost ceremoniously indulgent album. The usual movements of rising guitars and strings after marching through the detritus of sludgy radio waves and white noise of the opener alone sound unusually and refreshingly hopeful in a “fight it until there is nothing left” kind of way. There is an assurance that could be pinned to the upheaval of Fridays for Future and their stringent belief in changing the systems by criticizing openly and vocally on the street. Or much rather the specs of hope the BLM protests have brought in the wake of the ever-present racial injustice coming to the forefront in the middle of the pandemic and what should have been better times through the common quest for survivance by an invisible killer. On their latest, the blend of hope and spirited defiance is as electrifying as the best moments of their early discography. If civil disobedience and the sense of making it in spite of the decline of the masses through various ideologies ever needed a soundtrack, again, GYBE have provided these arms.

26. Aesop Rock & Blockhead – Garbology

Linking up after many years of what seemed to be a falling out between them, Aesop Rock and Blockhead released Garbology with clear roles attached. Aesop Rock had made waves with his recent resurgence as a writer and producer of his own beats coupled with his own understanding of how to use the music for his sound and lyrical wizardry. Still, some were asking for this collaboration to come through and the producer who made “Daylight” to contribute to the aged rapper turned introspective menace trapped in the body of an indifferent aging man. From the beginning sampling Lucien Freud and his stark idea of every painting bearing the mark of being the only painting of value to ever have been created, “Jazz Hands” has Aesop Rock going off for over two minutes of the 3:25 track before the beat even drops. The lyrical, fictitious out-of-the-box thinking of Rock melds with his own personal life and just rattles off against the jazzy vista by Blockhead. In the first minutes alone, both collaborators show off their chops and transitions from their careers in the bygone era into fully contemporary times. Tracks like “Fizz” or “Oh Fudge” recall the best formulas by Blockhead between soul and space music exalted through snappy samples and vocal snippets, but have a tighter feel to them, less made as loops or simply structured songs, but handcrafted for Aesop Rock’s flows and his twists and turns. Garbology might be a one-off project for a new phase of Rock’s lyrical and creative career, driven by loss and the inability to provide his own sounds to his writings, but it stands tall as a virtuoso offering of collaborations between MC and producer.

25. Amenra – De Doorn

Reading about De Doorn reveals its many influences and the intent of making an album that is quite literally used for a mass-like procession of burning totems of memory and transforming the material to the spiritual by way of fire. The music of Amenra has felt like a “grievous miracle” borrowed from the lore of Blasphemous even before the game and its Spanish inquisitions inspired world existed. From their albums and live shows titled “Mass” to the De Doorn, the band has broadened their scope from singular cathartic events to capturing a collective grievance in its sensory whole. Drowning their sound in cathedral-like feedback and opening up the passages for spoken word performances before rupturing into gnashing extrusions of pain, the album experience feels like therapy going from personal psychotherapy into the collective expulsions of ghosts and generational trauma. Amenra perfected crushing walls of sounds and spectral passages well before De Doorn, but here they found an outlet to let every aspect of their music shine in the most subtle and romantic ways, a confluence of craft and spirit through the act of burning.

24. Erika de Casier – Sensational

Sensational recalls the golden years of rnb music with shiny outfits, big productions, 3D water effects and minute characters that sang about love in ballads turned churning and beat-driven operas. Yet, behind all the callbacks to TLC, Erykah Badu or even touches of Aaliyah, Erika de Casier’s honesty shines through the clear and clean production the most. Part confessional, part statements meant for the unknown public of today’s internet platforms, Casier goes from wistful whispers of lust and longing to straight-up political affirmations of her own value as a person and woman, there should have been no borders in the music (or the reception thereof) in the past and de Casier makes this abundantly clear in her contemporary music-making within the techniques of a bygone era. The end result is a smooth and delicate body of work that works through her whispered vocals and subdued bombast of the production.

23. Tim Hecker – The North Water (Original Score)

Without having watched the series and making any connections to the visual worlds at hand, this soundtrack by Tim Hecker sees the soundscape artist returning to his common arsenal of timbres and drones after having spent his last albums within the very specific realm of Gagaku music. With heavy usage of the cello, Tim Hecker transforms frost and polar sensations of extreme cold from the dermal to the aural. Like polar caps melting and cracking under the weight of human interaction itself, The North Water agitates one’s sense of movement and stillness and has Tim Hecker blending the styles of his previous works with a more decidedly acoustic array of instrumentation – or rather letting the acoustics of the played instruments revel in their strength, something he perfects throughout Konoyo and Anoyo. While the album was released without much fanfare and as a side project of Hecker’s main line of music, The North Water feels deserving of his brand of soundscape and drone crafting as if this was a main album – not for the lack of experimentation and conceptual reinvention, but for its density and stark contrasting movements that recall the best moments of Hecker’s Ravedeath 1972 in a more accessible manner.

22. Mono – Pilgrimage of the Soul

Pilgrimage of the Soul felt like a repetition of their great 2009 album Hymn To The Immortal Wind. A similar vibe of venturing into the unknown in search of enlightenment and understanding felt reoccurring in the swells and monumental shifts of “Riptide” or “Hold Infinity in the Palm of Your Hands”. And to some extent, the eleventh album yet again folds back to their orchestral fifth statement. Takaakira Goto has always been a person and writer quite literally soul-searching for meaning through sound and his work in Mono and the progression of a spiritual entity and its transfiguration played an essential part in Mono’s music well beyond Hymn To The Immortal Wind. With the passing years and milestones, the band has reached, their own maturity and line-up changes notwithstanding, Goto has taken to become more vocal about his process and search for a spiritual framework to his craft. Pilgrimage of the Soul then is a moment after death, removed from memory and vertical or horizontal movement at times. The best moments reveal themselves in the twinkle of synths or the better interplay the band has gained in their compositions for strings and piano. The best example of this maturity can be found in tracks like “Heaven in a Wild Flower” or “Innocence”, the band allowing for silence and a form of gratitude to live for the whole track in the former and in turn ending their distortion-heavy crescendo not abruptly on the latter, but with a spacious ambiance. Mono still find ways to transform and extent their music after over 20 years as a band, and other than allowing for new instruments or even lyrics to contribute to their world, this evolution mostly happens in the intricate details and the language the members of the band, as well as Goto as a composer, have honed over these decades.

21. Heinali & Matt Finney – Jubilee & Knell

The music of Heinali and Matt Finney has always moved between life and death and the muddy in-between that pretty much captures the downcast existence of poet Matt Finney through his outlook on the world and fighting for a way to live. On Jubilee & Knell, both artists make this connection and the dissolution of the binary abundantly clear, from the title alone and trading in the dread-filled distortion of How We Lived for organ-driven processions and fluttering environs of noise. “Untitled” feels like the centerpiece of the album, Matt Finney seemingly wrestling with his status as a poet and the simple constitution of humans as dreaming and wishing organisms. The line “big dreams/bigger traps” might as well come from a contemporary rapper like Kevin Gates, weighing the option of escaping his life of struggle for stardom or the trapping of hustling itself. Through the broken shiver of Finney’s voice and the deluge, Heinali provides aurally, the expression and the sentiment throw a crippling shadow over the idea of living a good life in all the wrong places. Closing with the line “If I could do anything / I’d start again”, at least for me, gives a glimpse of defiance in its nihilism, maybe pointing towards the Sisyphean enterprise of only knowing the one thing and fighting fate through relentless repetition. While every album by Heinali and Matt Finney feels like the ultimate, their long-lasting friendship and creative relationship strengthens with every release and while old age and failure are a constant in Finney’s work, on Jubiliee & Knell, through the transcendence of a noisy and industrial backdrop for soundscape adjacent to Heinali recent solo work, the duo gain in magnitude. The magnitude of abysmal depth and sludge and the undeniable catharsis of tracks like “Nighthawks” in altitude of its closing. There will never be an answer to the betterment of life in today’s world, but in their collaboration the duo shows their path forward, at least to defy being muted by their own fears.

20. Muslimgauze – Narcotic (1997 Reissue)

As a follower of Vatican Shadow’s output of governmental industrial dealing with hegemonic forces of war and subversion, the reference to and comparison with Muslimgauze come with the territory of connecting the middle east with dub and electronic music. Beyond that, both artists have politics in their mind when they make music, there is no space for a simplistic mirroring of musical or taking up the imagery as easy ode’s to a world that is at best subject to a different form of colonialism by the music industry. Still, while Vatican Shadow must be well aware of Bryn Jones massive output as Muslimgauze in the short span of his life, the music never feels like a continuation of the various styles and trajectories of Jones, much rather an inspired transformation of similar musical ideas. Fernow’s music rarely leaves a place of misfortune, secret alliances and the assertion of western government ruling through the credo of having to “exterminate all the brutes” through their military and cultural weapons. Muslimgauze has these intentions as well but features a more visceral and broad approach, less focused on crushing the listener through the experience of his work. Especially Narcotic, an album originally released in 1997 features the most transgressive and transportive sounds of Jones’ career – at least in its rereleased form and as a hypernym for a discography too large to comprehend by today’s listening standards. The deep rhythms of middle eastern inspirations, the drum work Jones’ learned to express in his vision of political unrest and global upheaval blends with his dubby production and knack for noise and eerie textures. Other than being fascinated by the places and the turmoil that was well televised in these years as well, Jones held a love for the aural soundscapes he coaxed out of his own visions of these places, not to alter them to his own ideology, but to enrich a musical style that remains untouched even today. Narcotic is a hell of a ride like the title suggests one that feels entrenched in evil plotting, propaganda and the brink of revolution. We can be thankful for staalplaat and their reissuing of Jones’ work and making his oeuvre available, especially when hearing the re-edit of “Lion of Kandahar” and feeling the connections between Jones and Fernow as reaffirmations that our world remains a violent place to be analyzed for generations to come.

19. SSIEGE – Fading Summer

Fading Summer’s hazy ambient originally released on cassette in 2019 finally made its way onto vinyl this year. Not much is known about SSIEGE, but their usage of enveloping ambiance as driving synth-pop close to bubbly happiness and sad drunkenness is impeccable. Fading Summer plays like a whistling and buzzing dream reminiscent of Sakamoto or kankyo ongaku, just played within a larger scope of UK styles present beyond the idea of furnishing music or the fight against BGM styles.

18. Maxo Kream – Weight of the World

His second major offering, Weight of the World sees Maxo stepping into stardom with big banger tracks by way of featuring Tyler, the Creator, Freddie Gibbs and ASAP Rocky respectively. Both “Big Persona” and “Streets Alone” live through their featured artist and their catchy vibe, great singles that leave little to be desired but take away from the main appeal of Maxo Kream’s usual word-play heavy lyricism. Braggadocios tracks were never far for Maxo, but his greatest appeal still lies within the connection of quick riches and cold hard cash with the loss and alienation that comes with these achievements. “Cripstian” makes this clear from the very beginning, assessing his gangster person and the “live by the gun, die by the gun” attitude clashing with his dying grandmother and the suicide of his cousin sandwiched between the sour reality of losing his brother. The honesty of knowing no other way and hustling as a means of survival haunts the materialism of Maxo throughout the album and makes him painstakingly self-aware in his business-savy narratives. Redemption as riches is the great illusion Weight of the World and Maxo deal with throughout the album, making it out, only to understand that the streets and your origins are inextricably linked with your life and grievances even money cannot heal. All this culminated in the standout track “Mama’s Purse”, Maxo fighting loss with money, reminiscing about his mother shoplifting while contrasting it with his own stealing money from her purse. Here Maxo connects the sad push and pull of materialism with the constant hustle and aspiration for betterment through its own distorted lens, affirming and rectifying moral violations with a common spirit of survivance and resignation to a lived reality – pretty much the weight that made his career.

17. Marina Rosenfeld – Teenage Lontano

By interpreting György Ligeti through the usage of the collective teenage voice and her electronic compositions, Marina Rosenfeld creates an eerie mixture of the choral strength of vocal communion and the quiet polyphony of Ligeti’s original composition. The three parts captured on the first half of the LP provide an elusive introduction to Rosenfeld’s employment of teenage voices as choral underpinnings for her work, strangely youthful and equally resonant in its employment with creeping spectral rises of sound and pulses. Special focus, however, must go to the latter work titled “roygbiv&b”. In this composition, the emergent voices tackle snippets and phrases of popular lyrics such as Alicia Keys’ and Christian Aguilera’s “I keep on falling” and “You are beautiful” in a haunting concrescence of reverb, loops, and small incisions by singular syllables or blips. Similar to Gaelic Psalm singing wedged between pop music sensibilities and Holly Herndon’s vocal experiments, the voices in their simple iterations of catchy declarations, the affect created becomes ecclesial and fragile. Like good pop music for experimental lovers, Teenage Lantano is a heart rendering and utterly sentimental affair, in the best way imaginable.

16. DJ Iche – Nai Yetu Mixtape

Similar to the excellent outing of Sound of Pamoja, sister label Hakuna Kulala put a spotlight on drill music from Kenya through an hour-long mixtape. The talent on these snippets and movements over both sides of the tape is earthshattering when thinking about the lack of uniqueness genres like American trap seem to keen to fall victim to. The voice of the various MC’s especially every female MC that takes the mic on this is raw and entrancing, only to be put over the edge through DJ Iche production. Janice Iche solo work might tether more on the less aggressive side of rnb sounds and singing, but her glacial and menacing production, the deep sub-bass bangers or the crystalline synths lack nothing behind the most recent work by what 808 Mafia or Metro might produce for Future. Let’s hope for a release on vinyl and this mixtape to create even more international exposure for each MC and DJ Iche.

15. Ethel Cain – Inbred

While the world spent a lot of time on hailing Olivia Rodrigo as the artist reclaiming female pop-punk, rock and even goth rock styles through her own channeling and blatantly biting the styles of Avril Lavigne, Taylor Swift and Courtney Love in her Disney-esque claim to have it all, Ethel Cain released a small masterpiece between the recall of these styles and a hefty dosage of southern rock and dream pop. The heartbreak of “Michelle Pfeifer”, the relationship lost and growing weary of the decision to salvage and “bury us both” by making an exit. The duet with Lil Aaron is the best alternative rock song meant for radio play in 2021 and upended the whole collection of Rodrigo’s Sour by the opening chords alone. The rest of the EP transports the same bittersweet mania and vast, light-flooded misery of southern gothic tales. Other than denying religion and her Baptist upbringing, Ethel Cain channels the trauma in her songs of love and loss, past lovers and god blending and losing face in the gospel of her heartbreak and disillusionment of maturity. Inbred points towards the ability to make catchy and dream pop songs that have all the makings of how today’s female voices have made their rise, Ethel Cain will hopefully establish herself and make waves through her own goth chic in the future, for I can see thirteen-year old’s yelling her song as well as scribbling lyrics in journals for years to come.

14. Holy Other – Lieve

Disappearing after his debut album Held in 2012, Lieve marks the resurgence of a sound – mostly called witch-house – that was somehow synonymous with the early rise of new alternative electronic music as well as the rise of a new kind trap called cloud rap. Other than transitioning onto more experimental soundscapes such as Clams Casino, Holy Other’s Held was a spectral listen, somewhere between great instrumental hip hop production and haunting baroque music. On Lieve, Holy Other picks up where he left off while incorporating a wider array of organic sounds and clearer production chops to his style. The banging tension of title track “Lieve” is alleviated when a real saxophone cuts through the mix and delivers moments reminiscent of Floating Points and Pharaoh Sanders album this year – the ghost subsumed into the organic and strikingly material. The vocal work on tracks like “Heartrendering” or “Whatever You Are, You’re Not Mine” recall the best moments of Holy Other’ early work and debut album, but the samples and snippets reach higher and are allowed more space to breathe, its timber never muddied but providing the ambiance itself. I still distinctly remember tapping into this subgenre and Holy Other’s many contemporaries, mostly from the Tri Angle Records label, and thinking that the moods of post-rock and ambient style have arrived in the world of hip hop and house production. Not as a novelty or superb innovation, but as the allowance of the atmospheric and a different kind of space in the production that would have been called boring or uselessly ethereal before. Now with acts like Asap Rocky or Lil Uzi World and a whole new breed of rappers taking this production and making it mainstream, it is more than time for artists like Holy Other to reclaim the sound and show their unique visions for it.

13. GAS – Der Lange Marsch

Returning after 2018’s politically charged Rausch, Der Lange Marsch by techno giant GAS feels like a retrospective of a long winding discography enhanced by the experience of the forest, nature, and equally, immortally in love with the bass drum. This year I had the chance to finally catch up with the vast array of albums GAS had been releasing in the late 90s and fully understand the scope of his specific blend of techno romanticism. The hauntology of Wolfgang Voigt’s blending of classical samples and instruments into a supreme soundscape and pairing this experience with the simplistic but effective four-to-the-floor bass drum has felt like a prima facie of marrying techno sensibilities with the overarching yearning of romantic nature experience. Yet, the true progression of his work only began with the reemergence of GAS in the late 2010’s and especially with the duo of Rausch and der Lange Marsch. In his own words, Voigt alluded to the growing confidence in his own musical language and how this in turn made his output more effective and focused. Rausch was the relentless and creeping understanding of never having the ability to leave the human condition behind in the exploration of what appeared to be untouched forests. Especially the album carried with it the menace of societal ills and the tendency to get lost in positive reinforcements before facing up to the challenges of the current political climate. On Der Lange Marsch, GAS reinterprets this feeling in a more tender and cordial momentum, the sinister vibe of his forest still shows its face from time to time, but all the instruments and samples have become clearer than they have in the past. Even a passage of choral work, voices make their debut on the album's last stretch, a novelty for the visceral and ephemeral suites of the past, but welcoming and a perfect fit after immersing oneself in the hypnotic beat for an hour again. Der Lange Marsch has Voigt and the listener bearing witness to the blooming decay of GAS own generation of sound and timespace, a tribute and as Voigt professed himself, an eternal loop of reminiscence and exploration in movement.

Listen here.

12. Andy Stott – Never The Right Time

From the eclectic black and white album cover of a flock of seagulls rising over the ocean observed from a window dressed with an assortment of potted plants, Never The Right Time captured the newest state of Andy Stott’s musical mind and his evolution in collaborating with the euphonious voice of Alison Skidmore. What was born in the depths of conflicted dub and tethered beat renderings on Luxury Problems steadily grew more enriched with faster paces and settled atmospheres allowing for higher contrasts and rays of light to cut through the murk in Stott’s previous work. Supplying his followers with instrumental club-oriented cuts on his last EP and setting his return through these tones was a wise decision in order to have Never The Right Time stand singular as a full-length LP. Whatever iteration this album may be and whatever may have been scrapped in the process of Stott’s four-year absence since Too Many Voices, on Never The Right Time the producer revels in exuberance of melodic leads and crystal clear brass stabs, for example on “The Beginning” or “Repetitive Strain”. Whenever Skidmore reprises her role of ethereal voice between the production of Stott, she delivers the forever removed, floating between earth and sky sensation she has perfected since Faith In Strangers. The bass churnings, hollow souls pounding and brittle twilight Stott has been producing since his EPs in 2011 have grown connate and faded in his continued hunt for moody black and white reflection, never turning back to the desolate regions of Luxury Problems or sparkling as in Too Many Voices. On Never The Right Time, this distinct sound of distance and longing flies beyond the threshold of folk music, honest expressions reverberating in their own sentiment – maybe that’s why Stott chose the Cocteau Twins recall “Hart To Tell” as a closer, a circle closing for another turn.

Andy Stott · Never the right time (feat. Alison Skidmore)

11. serpentwithfeet – DEACON

Consciously deciding to leave the sadder songs of his discography and songwriting behind, the tales of longing for love and brokenness through it, serpentwithfeet wrote DEACON as an ode to love and relationship. Every song gleams with the assurance of love and the unbreakability of a bond that goes deeper than the sexual or simple shows of affections. It is the feeling of waking up with a loved one that brings a rush of energy, the observations of how even the corny and strange ways of a partner are what makes love and how this all blends through sexual and spiritual ways of living in a relationship. Here serpentwithfeet combines his previous ability for deep metaphors and a kind of magic realism recalling Greek myths with the sheer joy of the onomatopoeia of intonating a trumpet and you’ll be sure to be affected by this childish joy and want to sing along. The tenderness of DEACON on the side of lyrics is only matched by the slow blooming instrumental underlying the strong falsettos and whispered verses. From the bubbly 90s rnb “Same Size Shoes” or “Amir” the dubby and ethereal “Sailor’s Superstitions” or immaculate twinkling ambiance of closer “Fellowship”, Deacon is a sprawling move away from singular electronic ambiances and an embrace of the workings of the acoustic and sparse. Serpentwithfeet’s music previously felt like a great lament shaded through baroque grandeur of spacious soundscapes that rarely left room for rejoicing in the positive feedback of love. With this album he has redeemed this quality fully and opened a new way to celebrate love and queer love in ways more transgressive than a heteronormative rnb of the yesteryears would have ever been able to.

10. Gabber Modus Operandi – PUXXXIMAXXX

Searching for expression of postcolonialism in music becomes a wild ride if you not only locate those that differ from learning styles of western cultural waves crashing and altering own perspectives on music but observe places where those influences become critiqued, put in a socio-political context, and completely made their own to give a finger to cultural reshapings or exploitations themselves. In this, Indonesian/ Balinese duo Gabber Modus Operandi only have few contemporaries doing what they do, Thailand’s Pisitakun coming to mind apart from Nyege Nyege’s wide array of electronically inclined artists and M.I.A. standing as the only example of a pop-leaning first offender. This blend of hard techno styles like gabber and industrial music collides with pentatonic scales that have been employed in Gamelan – the favorite and in our western perception extremely altered “cultural export” taken from Indonesian music, perpetrating the strange image of spiritual islanders beating their instruments for some yoga studio to reach enlightenment with Ayuvedic teaching and a buddha statue hanging in the back to suck up hundred years of shame to come. GMO subvert all this against those who made Bali into a place for party techno and a haven for a nice island hotel stay to look at those foreigner people that must have it so good to live by the ocean with their 2018 album PUXXXIMAXXX that now saw its first vinyl release in 2021 via Danse Noir. With the added bonus tracks, PUXXXIMAXXX is a hellish club experience moving between harsh noise bangers and playful ritualism played through, again, more banging beats and synth stabbings. Meant as an expression against the constriction of the country’s music and club scene, GMO and other artists between these styles (for example Raja Kirik and her album “Rampokan” also released this year) leave no stone unturned in their high bpm offerings and intertwinement with local musical styles. Who knew that true globalism feels like shattering your auricle and tumbling through these sounds similar to Jathilan (something the group captured with their excellent music video for “Dosa Besar”). The beauty of PUXXXIMAXXX lies within its generation through technological means as well. In the description of the duo, this is made possible through the spreading of the internet and cheap phones into the reaches of Bali and its common populations. Couple this with the ability to film and record everything and vibrant culture of their own, you arrive at GMO’s cut and stitch approach of pastiche and raw energy. In ethnology, the idea of expressing and observing a culture in collaboration with the native population is always much talked about in all its obstacles of the researchers themselves removing their western views and understandings of the world in the process, or never actually achieving this. The answer to this problem might lie within the similarly old idea of letting “the other” speak, even in this salto mortale kind of way eschewing easy comprehension for crushing sounds and blown-out speakers.

09. Baby Keem – The Melodic Blue

The Melodic Blue as a newcomer’s outing might sound overproduced in that this could have been easily been the sophomore album of an artist that bided his time with mixtapes, massive features, and a raw album that delivered unison flows and beats. On his first full length, however, Baby Keem under the guidance of pglang and most prominently his cousin Kendrick Lamar opted for a wide viscous offering of sprawling cuts ranging from straight-up rap bangers to 808’s and Heartbreaks recalls after these flows and moods have become normative expressions of sung-rap in the 2010s. The immense effort to make these tracks sound smooth and as lush as they are, somehow pulls a shade over who Baby Keem should have been for a wide audience of first-time listeners, leaving only the reference of being Kendrick’s cousin, the first outing of pglang as a major competitor to contemporary music labels and many times over the artist who got two Kendrick features after the GOAT fell silent for so long, now proffering the vengeance for the days to come. But going beyond this, not knowing who Baby Keem is beyond “two phone baby keem” and all of the above, introspection and insights to his creative workings are still visible in the catchy and sing-songy cuts of The Melodic Blue. If anything, Keem might be an artist first before being a preacher of his experiences, someone who has this towering presence of Kendrick Lamar in his purview and honed his craft in the shadow of sounds and albums that might be the only ones that deserved the title of an instant classic. The result is an album that plays like a curriculum vitae of a person steeped in a culture of greatness and zeitgeist of hip hop and rap far removed from street tales and the notion of authenticity. Baby Keem is much more adjacent to Drake and Lil Uzi Vert than his profound ability to rap on tracks like “Range Brothers” or “Scapegoats” might emit. On “Family Ties” Keem as much as accomplishes standing his ground against Kendrick Lamar, something that someone his age and novelty achieved beyond more storied and historic MC’s in the world of rap. And while “South Africa” sounds like a slurry of Kool-Aid that should have never passed the creative forces behind pglang’s talent, “First Order of Business” sounds fresh as a head-nodding jam of “making things rights” through success and love that doesn’t require a cheesy phone in- or outro of a relative. Keem can stand alone through his craft, choice of beats and especially his flows. Stepping out of the shadow of Kendrick will never be easy, but The Melodic Blue shows more talent and promise than most newcomers in hip hop did with two albums over the late 2010s without a doubt. Even if he is family and Kendrick holds dear to his roots, as an artist and creative director, giving his co-sign must speak for his confidence in Keem and before any false allegiances as an artist and rapper.

08. Arooj Aftab – Vulture Prince

The faint compositions full of melancholy and a wistful eye towards a brighter future showcase the ephemerality of life and living through loss in impeccable ways. Without tapping into the lyrical content or knowing the language, Vulture Prince and the story behind the album transforms Arooj Aftabs music between jazz, new age and classical sufi poetry into a vigorous moment for her deceased brother and the quest of moving on. Her unique blend of more traditional vocal styles and themes present in sufi poetry and music-making transpose well into the full ensemble musicians, giving each track enough space to carry its mood on the slower tracks and deliver the right kind of swaying movement for faster-paced cuts. Standout “Mohabbat” develops light as sunrise over a warm spring night, the delicate strumming of guitar or sitar and harp unfolding with bursts of brass and flute into a rich center that never explodes into full-fledged loudness but bracing contentment. “Last Night” easily warps from slow mourning traditional into a jazzy opening that steadily converts into an eye-opening blend of dub and folk sensibilities. Vulture Prince for all its loss that preceded the songwriting process and Aftab’s own life marks the arrival of a compositional force to be reckoned with and a genre chameleon that makes all the influence and easy labeling of world music into her unique expression. True New Yorkian folk music maybe.

07. Tirzah – Colourgrade

With whistling, like real whistling sampled into birdsong-ish oblivion intro of Colourgrade, Tirzah made good on delivering no easy repeat of her stunning 2018 solo debut album. From my understanding, Devotion was meant as a one-off kind of thing before Tirzah went back to her day-to-day life and I felt like a huge loss to all things alternative rnb and electronic music coming from the UK in general. Thankfully the huge success of the album must have helped Tirzah to consider otherwise and against the easy route of rehashing her previous work or going full rnb, Colourgrade goes even further into the fractured approach of using melody, voice and loopy beats to create other-worldly textures as songs. Sure, “Hive Mind” another collaboration with Coby Sey remains a standout track in rendering this approach as a full-fledged song without many ruptures or tatters hanging left and right. Yet, the whole song in its impeccable vibe and close-knit chemistry of both voices becomes only greater standing as a nugget of structure within the rest of the album. Tirzah’s appeal, as with her debut, is within the ability to take small fractions of songs, sentiments and phrases are softly spoken aural occurrences and events through the signature production of the collective behind her. The honest words of “Beating” don’t rely on any metaphor or high poetic language, it is the straightforward reality of “we made life / it is beating” or “I am you, you are me” that makes love and a deep connection towards a partner felt through the pulsing warps of the production. Even the longest and most abstract, for its wordlessness track “Crepuscular Rays” fits into this mold of raw emotion transported by the tone of voice before finding any semantic meaning; it is a much an interlude between the phrases as it’s a centerpiece of the aural mood Colourgrade captures. As in 2018, there has been no better rnb LP made in 2021, as Tirzah’s atmospheric blend of expressing love and togetherness, ramped up to ten, loose and unstructured, like the statements of great rnb track floating above the air, gaseous in their form.

06. Abul Mogard – In Immobile Air

Every artist, for almost two years now, has constructed their work in and around Covid-19. Some carry the pandemic as the creative boon or bane that has affected their music in striking ways, and this is completely understandable to have the music reflect these times of uprooting the normative ideas of life, relation, culture and even health. Still, the pandemic album is a trope that most musicians fail to reflect in the actual work or it becomes a not-so-unique selling point that only marks that life went on, for everyone was living through this in their own ways. Other than directly being made at the start of the pandemic, Abul Mogard captured the static of life grinding to a halt and the seemingly uncanny vulgarity of people dying from an invisible disease. In Immobile Air sees Mogard allowing an upright Bechstein piano into his usual blend or organ sounds and hollowed soundscapes that flutter and evolve into realistic mediations on sound and listening within sound. The instances where the piano sound, the minute smattering of keys and a melody on the self-titled opener and the standout “Sands” feels like updates on Steve Reich or Philipp Glass, utilized for the empty streets and solemn mood of the start of lockdown. It captures the sensation of slowly grasping that this is not only a flu that will pass or that the alarmism is misdirected caution for a small bump in the road. Riding the bus alone as companies and public life come to a standstill and you being the only one still working your day job, in uncertainty if all the elderly people you know will survive or how those will cope that have lost their jobs through this event. The recurrence of the theme of air in Mogard’s work has set my mind wandering many times and shifted my understanding of what ambient or slow-moving electronic soundscapes should be. Other than dreamscapes or fictitious lands of wonderment and relief, Mogard’s musician, similar to Hecker’s best work, always captured a clear, but never detached outlook on the world and its state. The immediacy of In Immobile Air shines through in the swells of synth and the enveloping quality the introduction of piano brings for fragile realism of a world in disarray through the ephemeral spreading of a virus. Closing with “On A Shattered Shell Beach”, Mogard seems aware of the deprivation and casualties this pandemic will bring and has brought over the course of the following months. Not only in the count of human life or the turmoil wrought by those that denied the actuality of the disease but in the rupture of the possibility of going back to a life before Covid in a naïve idealism of growth and progress sheltering us from the environment we have tried so hard to control.

05. Low – Hey What

On Hey What Low accomplished both opening up the style they introduced fully on Double Negative and harkening back to their songwriting and lyricism that made their previous work so captivating and catchy – something which sounds disparate to do but flows together so well. While some aspects from Double Negative, like the constant hiss and tape decayed ether are lighter on Hey What, the noise-filled, electronic limbo is still present and enveloping. Sparhawk and Parker, however, opened the sound for a stronger focusing back on their voices and vocal harmonies as such. Building hooky songs that play like gospel and leads for pop songs like “White Horses Take Us Home” or the simple repetition of “Days Like These”, these phrases switch between soothing reassurances of music and becoming a new kind of noise. Opener “White Horses” slaps you with a metronome-like springy riff turned beat, to pop-off and become a wall of sound wherein both voices fight for audibility. The track does little to find an easy conclusion in the metronome fastening its pace to become obnoxious and sickening as if these galloping saviors lead you deeper into the aural world of the album. “Hey” is a terrifying ballad, sucking all the air out through Parker’s forlorn lines, for a moment of silence before the crushing waves return. This uncanny beauty, the soothing voices, the ghostly haunt, the bodily discomfort caused by the washes of noise and texture is as inviting as it is meant to alienate. Whatever emotion you put into this song and Hey What in general, it becomes mangled, rebuilt and recontextualized like very few albums do. This is no simple matter of resonance anymore, but a breathing and willing agent in itself, hard to pin down in its renewed poppiness and sacral altitude and bone-shattering use of distortion. While Double Negative felt political and as a sign of the times, Hey What delivers the same destabilizing dynamics with more ease and on a more personally affective quality. “Don’t Walk Away” would sound at home in the slow embrace of Low’s 1994 debut album, were it not sandwiched between the esoteric “There’s A Comma After Still” and the grinding “More”. And these dynamic plays well for Low and as a progression to refine the sound of Double Negative, which didn’t seem necessary in the first place. For all experiences of trying to understand the complexities of a dying world, one that still has beauty and hope in it, but muddles this in the strictures of ideologies and monetary self-interest, Low herald a beacon of wraithlike light, counterintuitive but entirely plausible.

04. Bruiser Wolf – Dope Game Stupid

“Married to the game, it was an arranged marriage/ But Detroit's the Mecca of hardships/ We used loose change to buy hard whip”

“I felt like a superhero when I was sellin drugs/ Cause I had to hide who I was"

“My pockets got a tumor/ And you got funny money, that's what I call a sense of humor”

“They think wе sellin’ pizza way we stretchin’ dough (Strеtchin’ dough)/ But it’s bread on my fingertips (My fingertips)”

“Guns get drawn like diagrams/ Uh, send shots straight through yo' diaphragm”

“I wish I would've knew what I know/ 'Cause back when it was a drought, that lame had the snow for the low”

“But the word "dealer" got a stigma/ Let's just say I practice medicine

“I chose poppin' bottles over college/ I got a drinking problem, I need a grammy to ease my conscience

“Airquotes, I was told to sell dope like y'all was told to vote”

“Money is my native tongue, Detroit's native son”

“Cause I been whippin' that white girl/ And I always was taught not to put my hands on a woman!”

“It's a shame, I sell the same thing that caused us pain”

The quotables of Dope Game Stupid are pretty much every word spoken by Bruiser Wolf in his unique timbre and way of rapping. Other than the reference of E-40 and his voice, Wolf reminds me of the Nujabes version of “Ordinary Joe” by Terry Callier. The way Nujabes flipped the voice and delivery of Callier recalls Bruiser Wolf’s cadence and emphasis on phrases at times. This is not to throw Wolf into a linage of jazz and blues musicians or rendering his delivery outside of rap, for his off-kilter voice sounds different from everything happening in rap music right now. If Uzi Vert or Playboi Carti can be qualified as rappers and previously Future’s voice was readily accepted into rap, Bruiser Wolf should pose no problem after getting over a short bout with mental dissonance. Simply because Dope Game Stupid lives by his delivery, world-play and striking swagger that moves between braggadocios, self-conscious, beaten and highly musical. A voice as an instrument is taken into linguistic height by Bruiser Wolf on every track if swaggering along (“Thank God”), sing-songy (“Use Me”) or a menacing pusha sitting vigilantly in his car while waiting for a new drop (“Whip Test”). Dope dealing and escaping the hustling world of a poor Detroit haven’t sounded colored in and detailed in years, not for the ability of spitting bars but for the sheer catchiness of this certain kind of dread and high materialism colliding. And if not only for the sheer locale, Bruiser Wolf’s place at the Bruiser Brigade and under Danny Brown, another rapper that is instantly recognizable and a unique lyricist, couldn’t be anywhere else for the blend of eccentricity with comedy (this video of Wolf rapping to Danny for the first time shows it all!). The greatest moment of the album and delivery happens on “Momma Was A Dopefiend”, Wolf coming full circle with his trapping and ways of the world, his voice filling with anguish and hurt, shouting almost to consolidate the huge disparity of his life. What might sound like an adult swim cartoon, or maybe exactly for being a cartoonish and weird version of real life, quickly turns dire, conflicted and as paradoxical as any assessment of realness could ever be.

03. Deafheaven – Infinite Granite

The transition to soft vocals wasn’t a far or proposition for Deafheaven after a few experimentations on their last record Ordinary Corrupt Human Love. While those that held on to their black metal origin found offense in their even harsher betrayal of the modi so mirrored as the genre itself, the band and careful listeners knew that their usage of George Clark’s voice at its nastiest and most deprived was never just an indicator of belonging to this kind of for heaviness or turmoil, but an affective and performative choice that helped the band bring along their blossoming blast beats, opening up for layers between the doubt and fight for survival. Apart from his poetic and off-kilter way with words, George Clark held a literati and poet inside, always reflected in the lyrics themselves but obscured for the masses through his vocal delivery. It felt natural and urgent to open up the sound as well as the growls for other forms of singing and delivering lines such as “Sleeping in nectar/ teething on freedom”. Despite all this, the vocal turn and stylistic change of Infinite Grate was gargantuan and even had me scared for the whole album after the first singles felt disparate when compared to each other. George Clark is not a classically training vocalist, his singing voice is closer to a softer spoken word or at times an otherworldly Mike Patton with all the monotony and less the chops. Yet, the words have to be said, sung and spoken to their fullest extent and finding a reverb-soaked pocket of dream pop and shoegaze styles works well for Clark’s first major ventures beyond the growl. “In Blur” alone shifts between Oasis, Soundgarden, and a third component that blends effortlessly into a swaying and rueful ballad of faith and sobriety. Clark and the band pull of a total switch from a pounding machine on their previous albums that allowed for moments or respite and clarity into a diaphanous entity, grounding their inherent darkness and force into a fragile soundscape. What might have been a terrific lead or break to change and alleviate the heaviness coupled with it, has been set free and allowed to make its own stride, never for the detriment of the scope and affective capability of the band. Deafheaven lead me to believe that shoegaze is nothing other than the maladjusted child of slowed blast beats, punctuated and transformed to other effects and softer styles of singing – the same trajectory Nothing may dabble in their teeth gripping and fiendishly smirking avoidance of being straight-up metal. Beyond this, Infinite Granite makes for an enchanting listen, from its wonderful lyrical contents of innovative metaphors and wordplay to Clark’s way to painting a scene and his introspection to the real space rock vibes the band play as if there never was a metal past in them. On the few moments their old selves show themselves, the album gains even more ground and becomes a definitive expression of Deafheaven overall. The band have always known how to close an album and apart from “Great Mass of Colors” and “Villain”, which give a short spec of Clark’s bone-shattering growl, “Mombasa” is a march to glory in all its conflicted renderings. It’s last lines of “Travel now / Where They Can’t Let You Down / Where You Can’t Fail Them Now” rang true for me on a very personal level of searching for new perspectives and sacrificing known refinements for unease of growth and higher forms of maturity.

02. Rainforest Spiritual Enslavement – Seashell Altars

Starting out as a singular outfit by Dominick Fernow, Rainforest Spiritual Enslavement slowly grew to include Philippe Hallais aka Low Jack as a collaborator. And the introduction of the dub technologist finally bears fruit on Seashell Alters in ways that go beyond the enhancement of bassy drums into the eerie texture of constant rainfall. On Seashell Altars, the full scope offering of the newest barrage of dark jungle doom, which goes beyond the simple core of Flying Fish Ambience in many ways, the duo creates a fluttering and tribal new blend of claustrophobia. Going with the themes surrounding this album, RSE discovered now only the faint glow of ritualistic fires glowing in the distance, but the phosphorescence of nature, especially below bodies of water. This phosphorescence translates into opacity and lightness, the outfit hasn’t showcased before. While the tracks featured the vast array of rainfall sounds, constant rain crashing on ever-creaking, and evolving patterns of wooden percussive sounds or eerie soundscapes, the overall mood rarely went beyond a brooding and ominous kind of tension. Not that the feeling of something rising from the water that might be searingly beautiful, but equally scary (for instance, like the aliens from Arrival), but the danger of the unknown is upended with a fast-paced wonderment and even excitement to progress further into the depth Fernow and Hallais create. This alone lets the album feel more intense and dynamic, clubby tracks like “Metallic Rain” or “Black Magic Spreads Through The Ecosystem” seamlessly fade into the solemn twilight of “Snake Head Cemetary” or perfect middle ground of “Jellyfish Reproduce Black Magic”. The latter tracks, tied as “Jellyfish Reproduce Black Magic” and “Seashell Altars”, complement the main album in essential ways, allowing for the mood of wonderment to truly take hold and for the dub experiments to shine beyond the sole affect of a creeping ambiance of previous RSE output. After the lurching “Blue Ocean Floor”, which combines the spectral gust of previous releases while transitioning into a rite de passage of drums and offerings, both “Seashell” tracks spread a veil of unease and inescapability throughout their runtime. All metaphors aside, when it comes to creating soundscapes and living in the texture of imaginative locales, RSE never fails to combine the acoustically real with the cultured fears of the otherness of nature itself. Now the experience turns dubbier than before, a pervasiveness previously left to develop in space, pauses and ellipses become populated with tighter rhythmic experiences.

01. The World Is A Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid To Die – Illusory Walls

Illusory Walls plays like an intricate theatrical parable of making sense of life and purpose therein, weighing the value of hope and defiance in their relationality. Taking cues from the Dark Souls franchise feels like an uncanny world to paint in for a band along the spectrum of post-rock emo music, but the medieval, bleak Lovecraftian worlds of Souls games and their mechanics become intriguing similes to the everydayness of struggling to live in the modern world. You can find a lot of video essays talking about the significance of Dark Souls and its level design, teaching the player the values explorations, verticality and circularity of the environments they dwell in, and the common denominator of death – to be avoided, unavoidable and essential for a trial and error kind of approach that smites those that fail only if they fail to learn. Somewhere between all this, the constant reminder of departure in the form of other ghosts wandering the world, bloodstains that project the failings of your predecessors, and the familiar text of “You Died” popping up, Dark Souls is a teacher in hope for the hopeless. Facing near death and scary shit at every corner, after the biggest banes are slain, you get to discover a fireplace, light a lantern or meditate towards a totem, respite and the chance of leveling up reveal themselves with the extra-ludic device of finally breathing in the knowledge of having saved your progress without the need for yet another a corpse-run. Taking on the title giving illusory walls, instances of red herrings and despair, seemingly dead ends open up new possibilities as paths to explore and experience the world in full. Yet, only for those that remain vigilant or beat every fucking wall there is to make sure; at least I did in the chalice dungeons of Bloodborne, paranoid to miss out on further depreciation. Thankfully, as with this album and ending this hyper analysis what might have been a nice inside joke, there are other players leaving symbols on the ground. Some deceive as well, others try to help, knowing the paths to take and which walls to beat – lay bare illusions set to keep you in place. The collective force of TWIABPIANLATD fully blooms to its full potential on this album. What were delicate ballads and sprawling rock songs on their previous albums, entrancing through their post-rock influence to allow for longer tracks and arcs ranging beyond five minutes turns straight to the point and enticingly monumental on Illusory Walls. Developing their sound and movements to incorporate more prog-rock and straight-up metal riffages as well as a matured dynamic between the shared vocal duties of Bello and Dvorak, the album truly feels like a contemplative call to action you would expect in Brechtian theater or, again, in smart video games. But the band makes it abundantly clear, that theirs is no fantasy world with multiple retries. Incorporating their extensive band title into the last suite of the album, Illusory Walls is a no-holds-barred discord on contemporary social and political issues and the lack of systems to alleviate the despair of today’s zeitgeist. Working minimum wage jobs with no security, lack of healthcare, drug addiction turned normative through big pharma and prescription pills, suicide and the looming dangers of environmental crises in the shape of poisonous water build the experiential framework of Illusory Walls. Navigating a world in constant crises, with these disparities being flattened by the drive for monetary wealth or other forms of capital are nothing new, but TWIABP express these circumstances in a fleshed-out grappling with consciousness, despair and hope little other outlets, especially musically in 2021 did. Other than opting for the easy indictment of the state of a world and even simpler calls for action, the band is well aware of the inescapability of our predicament, you can take to the streets and try to make a change and you should, but this won’t stop the daily grind and loss experienced along the way of “working for the man” in some form or another. At times, the album in its theoretical movements, jumping between the escapism of nostalgia and the crushing defeat found in the futility of the action of others, denote today’s overt availability of knowledge and dialectics in harrowing ways. We have access to a crushing amount of knowledge and enlightenment through the internet and various forms of media, can rack up degrees and take in every failing of our environment, but more often than not we will get caught up in the convenience of ignorance of the simple quest of surviving day to day to pay of that student loan. These morsels of action/inaction disparities, for all their weight and sobriety still come off catchy and enveloping in the narratives the band chooses through their highly personal approach. Beyond attempts of philosophy, Illusory Walls makes their message clear in reiterating a need to act and understand beyond all the crippling realities of the world. After dwelling on these predicaments for the first half of the album, the last two tracks, clocking around thirty minutes use the themes and trajectories to build the albums and band's definite statements. “Infinite Josh” with the tender assessment of “Our dreams get drowned in a river of present needs” between the attempts of clinging to nostalgia and the repetitive strain of knowing “you can’t go home again”. Closer “Fewer Afraid” ups these moods with a long-spoken word suite that culminates indirectly addressing the audience and the resonating statements of “I can’t live like this, but I’m not ready to die. The world is a beautiful place, but we have to make it that way. Whenever you find home, we’ll make it more than just a shelter. If everyone belongs there, it will hold us all together. If you’re afraid to die, then so am I”. Between the collapsing of the binary of hope and hopelessness in finding a will to live as a will that is just not ready to die, the band builds this ethical statement grounded in phenomenological experience. The words alone only build half of the appeal of Illusory Walls, every track is glowing with details in their dynamic shifts, builds, heights and denouements – this is still very much a rock album between emo, punk, and post-rock. An expertly made Tool album that sounds as diametrically opposed to Tool’s as possible. Reiterating the lines and the inspiration again, the lasting impression of Illusory Walls remains a triumphant descent into life and living in full awareness of a fucked up and violent world – as in Dark Souls, we are prepared to die and know that our readiness to not die is what drives us forward. Somewhere between all this, is the levity of community, drawing a sign on the ground, not as an invader but as a blue spirit to help other and take on some of that fear.